


Chiaroscuro: Lustre

by whispered_weavings



Series: Chiaroscuro: The Series [7]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Angst, Bodily Fluids, F/M, Fantasizing, Imagined Blow Job, Imagined gangbang, Lust, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:01:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22532896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whispered_weavings/pseuds/whispered_weavings
Summary: In which a cardinal's thoughts are filled with you...
Series: Chiaroscuro: The Series [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1285418
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	Chiaroscuro: Lustre

**Author's Note:**

> Jen was inspired during the editing of Umbra to create this little peek into Copia's mind, and although chronologically it probably happened sometime during the events of Chapters 1-18, it still fits nicely right in between Chapters 19 and 20 ... so we're posting it as a midweek treat for you to enjoy! Written/edited by Jen with a serious assist on the ending from D!

“Because faith… is… mine … well…fuck…”

The new music warbles out of a nearby speaker as Copia stands before a full-length mirror in his brand-new papal rooms, dressed in his brand-new suit, scowling as he watches himself move in the tightest pants he’s ever worn. Too stiff, too damned stiff and stilted, he thinks, and he tries again and again…his frustration mounting…

“Fucking shit…” His curse is quiet, his tone almost resigned. He bows his head, eyes closed.

 _“Just gotta practice…”_ His lips twitch as he recalls your words. His hips move once more…a little…

_“You’re getting there, hun… You gotta….work it…”_

He replays the song from the beginning, watching himself again as he moves. _“If you bend your knees a little…”_ He opens his stance a little more, grinds a bit, and he feels…looser. There it is, he thinks as he watches his body undulate. His eyes sink shut again.

“That’s…that’s good,” you whisper, your hands resting lightly on his hips as they sway enticingly.

He smiles, eyes still closed. “You think so, _mi stellina_?” His leg starts bouncing along to the beat, almost of its own will, and then he moves again, this time lightly brushing against you.

Your breath catches. “Yeah…” He pauses…should he?...then he sways side to side….his half-hard cock just skimming against you… “Yeah…I think so…” your words disappear as he brushes against you yet again…

“Thank you,” he murmurs. You slide your hands up from his hips along his sides, and you begin to sway with him. His hands move to your waist.

“For what?”

“For helping me…” His moves are getting more natural, more fluid, with every beat. With every stroke his quickly hardening cock drags against your mound, his suit and your skirt the only two things keeping this sultry dance somewhat decent. “For inspiring me…” He thrusts without a thought, pressing you against him, reveling in your gasp. His grip on your waist tightens, and he moves…you’re riding his muscular thigh as he pulls you in, and your whimper makes him harder still. “For…wanting me…” he murmurs just before he dips his head to kiss you…

The music changes.

His eyes open.

The room is empty.

One hand is gripping his thigh, the other is rubbing his cock, painfully hard, through his pants as he thrusts and sways as suggestively as Papa ever has. With a groan he unfastens the skintight material and pushes it down his thighs, freeing his erection. The tip weeps precum and he smears it across his palm before he wraps his hand around the shaft and slides down to the base of his cock, once, twice…

“Fuck,” he growls as he watches himself, watches the precum seep out as he squeezes himself at the base, imagines it is your hand gripping his cock, squeezing, stroking…

He pictures you kneeling before him, smiling sweetly as your fingers wrap around his shaft, pumping him again and again before taking him into your warm wet mouth, moaning as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat…

Your name is nothing but a raspy sound as he masturbates, his grip on himself tight, almost too tight, the wet slide of his cock in his hand sounding filthy, dirty…

 _“I’ll be yours for a night.”_ Your promise echoes in his head… _Mine…all mine…_ His cock hardens even more, the tip red now, almost purple, he’s not sure if he’s pleasuring or punishing himself at this point…

He fucks into his hand, harder, faster, wanting your hands on him, your mouth on his…your soft wet cunt swallowing his thick cock, your walls clinging to his flesh as he pumps in and out…

A strangled cry escapes from him as he drops to his knees, hot spurts of cum jetting out of his cock, splattering the mirror, dripping over his hand as he jerks himself over and over, panting a little in between raspy grunts.

He stays on his knees, breathing hard as the last drops of cum squirt from his cock, and he loosens his grip, lightly stroking the shaft as he recovers, wondering what you’re doing right now… perhaps Papa is fucking your pussy while Johannes’s cock is deep in your ass, one hand on Henrik’s cock, the other on a ghoul’s…Fire’s maybe…while Jonas fucks your mouth…and the others wait their turns, watching your body jerk as you come for them…

Or perhaps you are alone, legs spread open, fingers of one hand tormenting your clit while the fingers of the other are buried deep within your pussy, plunging in and out, hips bucking as you come, “Copia” on your lips…

More cum shoots from his dick as he curses, the words mere growls as the second orgasm overtakes him, rocking him to his core.

For long moments he kneels there, head bowed, chest heaving, thighs shaking. Finally, he struggles to his feet, wiping his hands on a nearby towel before stripping and cleaning himself, trying not to think about the velvety taste of your energy as he drinks it down.... “Oh, _mi stellina_ …” he breathes, barely a whisper of a sound.

“Look, I know you like giving us all nicknames,” Swiss suddenly says to Copia’s right, his voice amused, “but if it’s all the same to you, I think I’m going to stick with the one the Sisters and Brothers gave me.” 

Copia scowls faintly, pulling a towel around his waist. “What is it that you want?” 

Swiss grins, leaning against Copia’s desk. “I’d heard you got the first of your stage suits today. I just wanted to see how they fit, so to speak.” 

The new anti-pope raises an eyebrow. “Ghoul. Did you seriously come here just to check out my new tight pants?” Swiss nods eagerly, and Copia shoos him out of the room instead, shutting the door and leaning against it. “Idiot ghoul,” he mutters before redressing and standing in front of the mirror once more. The new music starts to play, and his leg bounces to the beat. His eyes sink shut as his hips sway.

“Show me again, my love,” you whisper.

“Anything for you, _mi stellina_ , anything…”


End file.
